Mr Philips
by TrevorPhilipsIndustries
Summary: Jane walked into Trevor's life and everything changed for him. The wild, rage-filled man that she first met had grown into quite the family man; but at the end of the day, he is still the crazy, untamed Trevor Philips that she first fell in love with. A sweet series of one-shots about a future in which Trevor Philips gets married and has children.
1. In The Beginning

"Daddy!" The little girl tore through the front yard, her brown curly hair bouncing with each step.

"Coralie, the flowers!" I shouted through the open window, watching her sprint through the flower bed I had worked so hard on. I watched as Trevor slammed the door of his Bodhi behind him, catching the small girl as she hurled herself into his arms.

"Hey, angel!" He laughed, hoisting her up onto his hip, and headed toward the front door. I reached out my right hand as he stepped inside, pulling his face towards mine, and planted a kiss on his lips.

"Daddy, I made a painting!" Coralie told Trevor, practically vibrating with excitement as he put her down in front of him.

"You did?!" He cooed, poking her nose gently. I watched as she grabbed his hand, pulling him into the living room to show him her artwork. I watched from the kitchen as she handed him her painting.

"It smells amazing in here, gorgeous," Trevor told me.

I smiled at him as I set the table, and began plating up the grilled chicken and vegetables I had just finished making. Trevor stepped into the kitchen, helping me pour drinks for the three of us.

"Michael called, he said he'd be stopping by later." I told him, sitting down across from him at the table. Coralie sat on her knees in her chair as she began chewing on a bite of chicken.

"What's that fat fu-" Trevor stopped, noticing the little girl looking up at him with wide eyes, and started his sentence over, "What's he want?"

"I think he's got a birthday present for someone," I said in a singsongy voice, smiling at Coralie. She grinned, dancing around in her seat.

"I'm gonna be six!" She exclaimed, and began chattering on about how she was 'practically a grown up.'

"You know, big girls always eat their vegetables," Trevor spoke up, watching her push a bit of steamed broccoli around her plate.

She scrunched up her freckled nose, staring down at her plate. "Noooo," she whined.

"Three more bites." I tried to make a deal with her. She heaved a sigh, and begrudgingly bit into the piece of broccoli she had been playing with. She grimaced, dropping her fork onto her plate.

"It's bad! I don't want any more!" She complained.

I held up two fingers, looking at her plate and then back to her. "Two more bites."

She groaned, placing her head in her hands. "Fuck," she muttered.

Trevor snorted, stifling a laugh. I gasped, clasping a hand over my mouth. "Coralie, we do not use that word," I scolded. Trevor snickered, no longer able to hide his amusement. "It's not funny, Trev! She learned it from you!" I narrowed my eyes at him.

He straightened out, trying to look serious, and told Coralie, "Mommy is right, sweetheart, you shouldn't talk like that." I cleared my throat, looking at him expectantly, and he continued, "And neither should I."

I patted him on the shoulder as I passed by him, bringing dishes into the kitchen. He stood up, and I could hear him speaking in hushed tones to Coralie, "One more bite and we'll tell mommy it was two."

"I heard that!" I jumped in, waving Trevor into the kitchen to help me clean up.

"I'm done, mommy, can I go outside and play?" Coralie bounded toward the front door, scaring the cat, who went sprinting upstairs.

"Just for a little while, honey, it's almost dark," I told her. Trevor smacked my behind with the dish towel he had just been using to dry dishes, and came up close behind me. He pushed my hair over one shoulder and planted a few rough, stubbly kisses on the back of my neck. "I missed you in bed this morning," I hummed.

"I bet you did." Trevor wiggled his eyebrows up and down at me, smacking my behind again, this time with the palm of his hand.

"You know what I meant." I turned to look at him. He placed his hands on my hips, pulling me in for a kiss.

"So," he began, "How had Coralie been today?"

"Absolutely crazy, as she usually is."

"Just like her mother," he teased me.

"Sure, I'm the crazy one," I laughed. I patted his cheek, pretending to slap him in faux anger.

"Well, I'm certainly not the crazy one. I was perfectly sane; living a boring, monotonous life, until you came along, that is." He pointed a finger at me, wiggling it around in my face. "What a lunatic, you are. Slowly turning my life into chaos."

I scrunched my nose at him and he chuckled, "I swear, you girls are gonna be the death of me. I need another guy around here."

Right on cue, Coralie came barreling through the front door, pulling Michael along by the hand.

"Can't believe this one is about to be six," Michael said, pointing at her.

"Can't believe you somehow look even worse than the last time I saw you," Trevor teased him. Michael ignored his comment, pulling him in for a half hug and patting him on the back. I noticed Michael was carrying a rectangular object wrapped in pink glittery paper and purple ribbons.

Apparently Coralie had noticed well before I had, because her eyes were fixated on the shiny object, and she whined, "Uncle Mike, can I pleeease open my present?"

He looked down at her and teased, "Who said this was for you?" She furrowed her brow and crossed her arms, not finding his joke very funny. She looked just like Trevor when she was angry. It was uncanny, really. He chuckled and handed her the box, adding in, "That's from Aunt Amanda and Tracey and Jimmy too, alright?"

"How are they doing, Michael?" I spoke up, watching Coralie tear open her gift.

"Ah, they're just great. Tracey just graduated college, can you believe it?"

"That's great news! I'm so glad to see you all doing well," I told him.

"It looks like me!" Coralie shouted, holding up a new doll who resembled her, with caramel eyes and a head full of brown curls. She leapt off the couch, tackling Michael in a hug, and exclaimed, "Thank you Uncle Mike!"

"That was nice of you, Mikey, thanks," Trevor said graciously. We watched Coralie sit down on the living room floor, introducing her new doll to her collection.

"Ah, it's nothin', T. Listen, I'm just glad you're happy. Never thought I'd see this; you getting married and havin' a kid and all. Unbelievable, really." He looked over at me, shaking his head. "I don't know how you did this, Jane, but it's great. Never seen him happier."

I couldn't hold back my smile as I wrapped my arms around Trevor's waist and pulled him close to me. He rested a hand on my shoulder and shifted his attention to Coralie, who was sitting on the floor, playing with her new doll.

"Sweetheart," Trevor spoke up, trying to get the little girl's attention, "Why don't you go put on your PJs?" She did as she was asked, barreling up the stairs; how such a little girl could make so much noise was beyond me.

"So," Trevor began, speaking quietly, "We gotta talk about this score comin' up."

Michael nodded in agreement, and they retreated to the living room couch to speak in hushed tones, planning out every move of their next score. I didn't love that Trevor was still willingly putting himself in danger with a child in the picture, but he was always careful to avoid anything being traced back to us. Still, even though he seemed invincible after years of crime and rage-induced fights, there was always a lingering fear of becoming a single mother, not to mention a widow. I tried not to listen to what they were saying as I finished putting away the dishes.

"I'm ready for bed!" Coralie announced as she sprinted back down the stairs. Trevor gestured for Coralie to come sit on his lap, and Michael stood up, putting his jacket back on.

"Take care of yourself, Michael," I told him, giving him a friendly hug.

"You too, Jane. And watch out for this one, he's bad news," he chuckled, pointing at Trevor. Trevor scowled at him, clearly not amused.

"I'll put you in the ground, Mikey," he responded calmly, leaning back into the couch cushions. Michael dismissed his comment with a wave and an eye roll.

"See ya Thursday, T."

We watched as Michael let himself out, trudging down the front steps and out to his car.

"Time to put this one to bed," Trevor spoke up, ruffling Coralie's hair.

* * *

"I've already read you two books, peanut, you gotta go to sleep!" Trevor poked Coralie on the nose.

"One more, daddy! Please?" She begged, jumping out of bed and running to her bookshelf. He let out a defeated sigh as he watched her pull another picture book off the shelf.

"One more," he told her as he took the book from her hands. I watched from the doorway as he opened the front cover, and began reading to the little girl. She sat curled up beside him, head resting against his shoulder, and her eyelids grew heavier with each page turn.

"She's asleep, love," I spoke softly, gesturing at Coralie. Trevor looked down at the small girl, fast asleep in her pink pajamas spattered with little yellow ducks, and dark brown curls falling over her eyes. He slowly wriggled his shoulder out from under her head, laying her down on her pillow when she stirred. He pulled the blankets up over her, and I watched as he gently stroked her hair, pushing her little brown curls out of her face.

"Goodnight daddy," she mumbled, half asleep.

"Goodnight, angel, I love you," he whispered. I took him by the hand and led him out of the room, shutting off the light on the way out.

"Hard to believe that little one is about to be six," I told Trevor as I sat at the end of our bed, changing into my pajamas.

"I feel like I was just holding her in the hospital," he agreed.

"Trevor," I looked up at him as he pulled his shirt off over his head, "Are you happy? Like really happy?"

"Ah, gorgeous, are you kiddin' me?" He put a hand up to the side of my face and smiled down at me. "I am in heaven. I got you, and I got that little beauty in the other room. I got a wife and a kid and a house. This is everything that I thought I'd never get. I was fine with that until I met you. You have given me everything in my life worth havin'. Whatcha think, I wanna go back to livin' in my trailer in Sandy Shores? Like hell I do."

"I love you," I whispered to him. His lips caught mine in a tender kiss.

"I love you, too, cupcake."


	2. ConflictThe Dance

It was eleven at night when I heard Trevor's truck pull into the driveway. He had been gone since before the sun came up that morning, tending to his meth business in Sandy Shores. I met him outside in my slippers as he made his way up the front walk, greeting him quietly as to not wake up Coralie.

"Hey, beautiful," he greeted me. I smiled at him, wrapping my arms around him in a tight hug.

"You were gone a long time. I thought you'd be home for dinner," I said casually. The corners of his mouth turned down into a frown, and he furrowed his brow at me.

"I had a lotta shit to do, princess. Ron was breathing down my fuckin' neck all day and Wade wouldn't shut the hell up. How's a guy supposed to get anything done?" His voice was sharp and heated.

I looked at him quizzically. His reaction was odd. Normally he could read every nuance in my voice. I took his hand in mine and pulled him towards the front door. "Love, I wasn't mad at you. I was just saying-"

"Saying what?" He cut me off. "Huh?" He stalked into the kitchen, heading for the fridge. His eyes scanned the contents of the refrigerator, looking for something to eat.

I ignored his sharp response; I figured he must have just been overtired. He did have a long day, after all. "Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you something to eat?"

He nodded at me as he took a seat at the kitchen table. "You spoil me," he added as he watched me take out lunch meat and veggies from the fridge to make him a sandwich.

"I missed you," I told him as I shredded some lettuce. "How's the business?"

"Eh, same shit, different day," he muttered.

"So everything is good, then?"

"Yeah, I guess. Oh, I broke a rib," he said nonchalantly.

"What?" I dropped my knife on the cutting board and turned to look at him. "You could've told me that right away, Trev! Are you okay? What happened?"

"Nothin' serious; I got into a fight at the bar."

I rolled my eyes at his answer. I was slightly irritated that he had apparently been hanging out at the bar when he could've been at home with Coralie and me, but I let it go. "What were you fighting about?

He looked annoyed by my questions, leaning back into his chair and rolling his eyes at me. "What's with the twenty questions, eh? Can't a man just come home and get some peace and quiet?"

"Jesus, sorry, I just wanted to know about your day. What's with the attitude, Trev?" I slid a plate onto the table in front of him and he immediately grabbed at the turkey sandwich I had made, tearing into it hungrily.

"Sorry, you're right. I'm bein' a dick. I'm just… tired."

I sat down across from him, sipping the green tea I had made myself before he got home. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Pißwasser," he answered bluntly.

"How many did you drink at the bar?" I asked, grabbing a glass bottle from the door of the refrigerator.

"Three. What's it fuckin' matter to you?" He snapped.

I looked at him with a wounded expression on my face. "What's your problem, Trevor? Why are you acting like this?" I leaned forward, perched on the edge of my seat, and studied his face as he bit into his sandwich. My heart dropped as I came to a conclusion, and I clamped a hand over my mouth.

"You smoked up, didn't you?" My voice was quiet; almost threatening.

"So what if I did?" He sounded completely unbothered, and I felt the rage boiling up inside me. How could he be so nonchalant about this?

"You have a child sleeping upstairs! You cannot be coming home high!" I tried to keep my voice down, but I couldn't reel myself in. He had been clean for almost seven years; how could he see nothing wrong with what he did?

"Would you rather me have just not come home?" His eyes had grown dark and angry-looking, and his mouth was twisted into a frown.

"What? No! I would rather you think about your family before you go get high!" I tried to calm myself as I spoke up again, "Baby, you were doing so well."

"Well, I was. Now I'm not."

"Trevor," I spoke softly but firmly, "This is not okay anymore. It was one thing when it was just you and me. I was patient with you while you got clean, but we have a child, now. Coralie cannot be around this. You were doing so well. I just thought-"

He cut me off, "Well, you thought wrong, sweetheart! You knew what you were getting yourself into when you married me!"

"I don't like this, Trevor," I whispered, suddenly blinking back tears. I had been keeping something from Trevor, and I knew now wasn't the right moment to tell him, but I could feel it scratching its way to the surface.

"Then leave."

I sobbed into sleeve of my sweatshirt as tears streamed down my face. "You don't mean that."

"You know, what, you're right," he stood up abruptly, knocking the chair down behind him, "You stay. I'll fuckin' leave."

"Trevor!" I cried, chasing him out the front door and out to his truck.

"It's pretty goddamn clear that I'm not good enough for you, so I'll just leave you alone. That's what you want, right? Huh?" He barked at me, wrenching his arm out of my grip.

"Trevor, I'm pregnant!" God, I looked so pathetic; a shattered look on my face, tears streaming down my cheeks, standing on the front lawn in my slippers.

He froze, looking at me with wide eyes. "W-what?" He stuttered.

"I was waiting to tell you, but I just-"

"I'm sorry, I'm gonna have to clean the shit outta my ears, because I must've heard you wrong," he said, eyes wide with disbelief. He ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling loudly.

"I'm pregnant," I repeated timidly, my voice shaky and weak. "I didn't want to tell you like this but-"

"No, no, no, no, shut up. Shut the fuck up. We can't have another kid! I already-" He paused. "I'm already a shitty father to one kid; I can't do it all again. This is a problem; this is bad."

I felt my stomach drop. His harsh words stung, and I began to worry if I was about to become a single mother. I sniffled, wiping the tears away from my cheeks. "Are you going to leave me, Trevor?" I asked, my voice wavering. "Please don't leave. I need you."

Trevor turned to look at me, and I saw his hardened expression soften when he noticed the look of panic that had washed over my face. He took a few strides towards me, and placed one of his rough, calloused hands on my cheek, wiping a tear away with his thumb.

"No, no, no, cupcake," he said, lowering his voice to nearly a whisper, "I'm not going anywhere."

"But you said-"

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry. I'm just… surprised. But I've made enough fuckin' mistakes in my life; that's not gonna be one of 'em." He let his fingers glide through my hair, and placed his forehead against mine, closing his eyes.

"Love," I whispered to him, "You're not a shitty father."

He chuckled, but it was hollow and vacant of any emotion. "You don't have to lie to me."

I put my arms around his waist and pulled him close, resting my head on his chest. "I mean it, Trevor. You're a good father; have you seen the way Coralie looks at you?"

I felt his rough fingers intertwine with mine, and I listened to his heartbeat slow and return to a normal resting rate. I looked up at him and gently pressed my lips against his. "I need you to stay clean, though. I need you around; I need you healthy."

He sounded broken and weak when he spoke up again, "I don't know if I can."

I pulled away, looking up at him with concern in my eyes. "Where is this coming from? What happened out there today, love?"

He swallowed hard, looking down at his feet. "My mother showed up."

"Oh," I whispered, "And?"

"She wanted money."

"You gave it to her…" I guessed, trailing off at the end of my sentence.

He nodded, and I could see him trying to hold himself together. "She left after that."

"Oh, Trev," I sighed, cupping his face in my hands. "I'm sorry."

"I don't wanna talk about this anymore," he muttered, pulling away from my embrace. I followed him inside into the living room, where he parked himself on the couch, staring straight ahead. I moved his arms out of the way as I sat down on his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Hey," I put a hand under his chin, lifting his head to look at me, "we're having a baby." I smiled weakly at him, hoping he would react positively.

He smiled back at me, gently rubbing my back. He raised his free hand to his head to massage his temples. "God, I'm gettin' too old for this shit."

* * *

Trevor disliked the yearly dance recitals. He loved seeing Coralie on stage, dancing her heart out with the rest of the girls in her class, but I knew he hated the judgmental stares and rude comments from other parents. Of course, that wasn't to say that Trevor gave a damn about what other people thought of him, but restraining himself from snapping and insulting them back wasn't easy for him. Still, he showed up each year with flowers for his little girl and loads of enthusiasm.

"When is Coralie's class up?" Trevor whispered to me, clearly becoming impatient with sitting through a dance recital which, thus far, did not include his daughter.

I reassured him with a pat on the arm. "She's up next." We sat patiently as the stage went dark, and the intro to 'Pink Elephants on Parade' began to play.

"Look how cute she looks." I pointed her out on the far right as the lights went up. She and the seven other girls on stage wore knee-length, pink, polka dotted dresses with matching elbow length gloves and pink feathers in their hair, which looked especially cute in Coralie's big brown curls. Trevor sat beside me, watching intently as she twirled and jumped around the stage.

"Can you believe we made that little person?" He whispered to me, his line of vision never straying from the stage.

"Can you believe we made another?" I responded to him in hushed tones. I caught a hint of a smile on his face as I glanced over at him.

Trevor pointed to our little girl on stage, speaking quietly into my ear again, "She's gotten really good. Pretty impressive, especially for a seven year old." I nodded in agreement, taking his hand in mine as we watched the rest of her dance.

Trevor fidgeted in his seat through the rest of the recital, clearly having mentally checked out after Coralie left the stage. He was all too excited to get up and go find Coralie at the end of the show. The back hallways were crowded with students and parents, all trying to find each other.

"Jane!" I was greeted by a tall, skinny woman, with large eyes and short, cropped blonde hair.

"Linda!" I said with faux enthusiasm. I only tolerated Linda because her daughter, Ava, was Coralie's best friend. Trevor rolled his eyes, making it apparent that he was not thrilled to see her.

"Trevor," she said coldly in his direction. He shot her a fake, emotionless grin. He stood behind me, sulking, with his hands crossed over his chest.

"Weren't they just precious? Aren't they growing up too fast?" Linda spoke quickly, gesticulating wildly with her hands. "We're thinking of enrolling Ava in a new dance studio next year; their teacher is just so abrasive and loud. Listening to her chatter away every week is horrible."

"Sounds familiar," Trevor grumbled behind me. I elbowed him in the side, shooting him a warning glare. Linda's face twisted into a sour expression as she turned her attention to Trevor.

"Trevor, you're actually dressed up today." She looked him over, seeming rather unimpressed. I thought he looked nice. He wore all black; dress pants, a new button down shirt and a pair of dress shoes. Linda spoke up again, "Normally when I drop off Ava at your house, you're just in those old grey sweatpants."

"Yeah, I don't usually wear a three piece suit while I'm mowing the lawn," he snapped.

"Trevor," I warned.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, huh?" Linda half-joked, looking at me. She was clearly trying to get to him.

"Listen, lady-"

I jabbed Trevor in his side again, stopping him in the middle of his sentence. He changed the topic. "We should go find Coralie. We'll be seeing you and Ava soon, I'm sure." Trevor disappeared into the crowd of parents and children as I said goodbye to Linda. God, the woman was abhorrent. I found Trevor searching for Coralie with a frustrated expression on his face. I touched him on the arm as I returned to his side, and he whirled around to face me.

"God, I fucking hate that woman," he spat through bared teeth.

"I know, I do too."

"Who the fuck does she think she is, disrespecting me like that?" His voice was growing louder as he spoke, and a few people around us had turned to look in our direction. "I don't know how her husband puts up with her. She's got crazy eyes, you know that?" His eyes bulged as he mimicked Linda's constant express; he wasn't wrong. The woman had some serious crazy eyes.

I took his face in my hands and pulled him close to me, looking into his eyes, which were full of pent up anger. "Love," I spoke softly, "I know you're angry, but remember where we are."

"Mommy! Daddy!" I heard Coralie's voice through the crowd, and turned to see her skipping over to us. Like a light switch, I watched Trevor's expression change from rage-filled and hateful to sweet and excited.

"Pumpkin!" Trevor held his arms out in a grand fashion, extending the bouquet of pink flowers he had been holding in her direction. "You were incredible!" She grinned from ear to ear at us, throwing herself into Trevor's arms. He hoisted her up and she reached in my direction, pulling me into a hug.

"How about ice cream for our talented girl?" I tucked a loose curl behind her ear, and her eyes lit up with excitement. Trevor gently put Coralie back down, taking her hand in his and letting her lead the way.

"Let's get the hell outta here," he muttered to me as she pulled him along behind her.


	3. Family Issues

"Coralie, honey, come here. You need more sunblock." She sat a few feet away from Trevor and I, giggling and building a sand castle with her sister. I gestured at Coralie to come over to our blanket in the sand. "You too, Scarlett. Come here." The three year old came toddling over to us, swinging a plastic shovel around.

"Easy with that thing, killer," Trevor chuckled. He sat beside me, staring out at the ocean as if he were watching a movie. He turned his attention to me as I slathered both of the girls in sunblock. "Whatcha girls buildin'?" He pointed at the pile of plastic shovels and buckets in the sand.

"A sand castle, dad," Coralie said in an exasperated tone. "Duh." She rolled her eyes at him. She was only ten years old; too young for the attitude, but we knew she was only joking.

"Hey, watch the tone, missy," Trevor pointed a finger at her, lowering his sunglasses on his nose to make eye contact with her. "I might have to throw you in the ocean!" He pulled her gently towards him, tickling her in the side. She shrieked with laughter, trying to escape his grasp. I couldn't help but smile as he pulled Scarlett towards him, as well, holding them both by his side as he tickled them.

"Can we go in the water?" Coralie asked us as she managed to wiggle her way out of Trevor's grasp. I nodded at her.

"Just stay with Scarlett, okay? And stay where we can see you. Don't go too far." She quickly grabbed Scarlett's hand, jogging towards the water as she dragged her sister along behind her.

"Look how much fun they're having. Aren't you glad we came out to the city for the weekend?" I nudged Trevor in the side, and leaned my head against his shoulder. Somehow, I had convinced Trevor to take the girls and I into the city for my birthday, despite how much he disliked it.

"I guess," he grunted. "Still hate it out here. I'm glad they're havin' fun, though."

"You know you're having fun; admit it." I scrunched my nose at him.

"Only because you three are with me. The trips out here by myself are all bullshit."

"Maybe you should sell the strip club," I suggested, "Less trips that way."

"Maybe." He leaned back onto his elbows in the sand. "So what do ya say about dropping the girls off with Michael or Frank for the evening and you and I can go get some dinner?"

My eyes lit up at his suggestion. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Pearl's Seafood?" He pointed at Paradise Pier off in the distance, pushing his sunglasses up on the bridge of his nose. I nodded enthusiastically.

"Lemme make a few calls."

I sat quietly, listening to Trevor chatter away on the phone, first with Michael, and then Franklin. I was excited at the prospect of having a nice dinner, just the two of us. It had been a while since we had been able to anything like that. Living out in Paleto Bay, we were too far from my family and most of our friends to ask them to babysit, and with how overprotective Trevor was with the girls, finding a babysitter he trusted wasn't easy.

"Good news," Trevor spoke up, pulling me out of my thoughts, "Frank's gonna watch them for us. And I got us a reservation."

I clapped my hands together, smiling sweetly at him. "You're the best."

"And the most handsome," he added.

"And so humble," I laughed. Suddenly, a thought registered in my mind, and I spat out, "Oh, I don't have anything nice to wear to dinner!"

"Good thing I packed your red dress when you weren't looking." He grinned at me.

"Oh, Trev, that dress is so small on me," I groaned.

"That's the point," he wiggled his eyebrows at me suggestively. I ignored his comment, wrapping my arms around his waist as I scooted closer to him. "What, no reaction whatsoever?" He sounded disappointed. "What's the fun in teasing you if you don't even react?"

"You're a pain," I joked, planting a kiss on his stubbly cheek.

* * *

"I had a reservation," Trevor stated, squaring his shoulder and standing up confidently. "Should be under Philips." I looked up at him, observing his stance and the way he interacted with the hostess. He was proud of himself, for sure. He didn't do things like this too often; planning weekend getaways, making lunch reservations at expensive restaurants. It was all so unlike him, but then again, he'd do anything for his family. The hostess led the two of us to a small table at the far end of the restaurant, pressed up against a wall of large windows that overlooked the ocean.

"This is really nice, Trev. Really," I held his hand across the table.

"Goddamn, you are gorgeous," he told me, stroking the back of my hand with his thumb.

"You're too much." I took a strand of hair in my free hand, twirling it around my fingers. Admittedly, I felt pretty good about how I looked that night. Trevor packed my red dress for good reason; I looked pretty nice in it. I had put on a fresh face of makeup in Franklin's bathroom mirror when we dropped off the girls at his house, and the salt water had given my hair the perfect beachy waves.

"I mean it, Janie. You look incredible. I don't even know what you're doin' with a dirty old man like me."

"Stop it. You're neither of those things."

He looked down at his menu and smiled to himself, tapping his fingers against the hard surface of the table.

The waitress came around and Trevor ordered for me; a glass of wine and the lobster. Of course he would order me the most expensive thing on the menu. He looked quite pleased with himself.

"So, gorgeous, are you havin' a good time out here?" He looked unsure of himself as he spoke, as if he was expecting a negative response.

I smiled, putting down my wine glass in front of me. "I am, Trevor. Thank you."

I looked out the window at the sun setting over the water. This truly was a perfect trip. I had never been spoiled by any other man the way I was with Trevor. He would do anything to make me happy. "Trev," I said, thinking aloud, "I've always wondered… Why me? Why go through all of this effort for me? You said you'd never get married and here we are. You said you'd never have kids and we have two now. I know that's not what you planned on. So why me?"

"Ah, cupcake, you can't be serious?" He looked at me with his eyebrows raised, waiting for a response. I shrugged, looking down at my plate. "You are gorgeous. I know I say it a lot but you really are. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I don't know what you see in me, but I hit it outta the park with you. And you're real. You've always been real with me; no bullshit, no fake personality. Everybody out here is full of shit. All they care about is money and fame and what kind plastic surgery they're gonna get next. But not you."

I smiled sweetly at him. For someone so rough around the edges, Trevor was such a softie inside. He looked vulnerable as he finished speaking, as if he was looking for reassurance that what he had just said was alright.

"But not me," I repeated quietly. I decided to change the subject, as I could see him becoming uncomfortable. "My parents called yesterday. They're coming for dinner next Saturday."

Trevor cleared his throat in disgust. "Must we always do this, Jane? They come over, we fight with them, they leave. I mean, if that's what you want, I'll keep doing it, but doesn't it make you unhappy?"

I sighed. I knew he was right. "They're my parents, Trev." I took a bite of my toast before continuing. "I just... I can't give up on them."

"You're too sweet to be with a heartless bastard like me, you know that?"

I smiled sweetly at him. I hoped for the best at dinner next weekend, but expected the worst. The last time my parents had come for dinner, my father and Trevor had ended up in a screaming match, with my mother and me on the sidelines in tears. My parents had never come to accept Trevor as my husband or the father of our children.

"We wanted more for you," they would always say. When I was a kid and I pictured having my own family someday, this was definitely never what I pictured; living out in Paleto Bay with two kids, and married to an older man, and a criminal at that. I had grown up in Rockford Hills; the child of a world class plastic surgeon and an interior designer for the stars. I knew my parents were disappointed in the way my life had gone; they were certainly not shy about telling me so. My sister, Marjorie, was the golden child. She was a successful lawyer, engaged to a talented surgeon named Dan, and had just moved into a big house in Chumash.

Still, I didn't regret anything about how my life had gone. We had moved out to Paleto Bay when I was pregnant with Coralie. Trevor had moaned about leaving Sandy Shores, but had grown to love our little three bedroom home with a big yard; set far back, away from any neighbors. It overlooked the beach behind us; close enough that I could watch the girls play in the sand from the kitchen window. It was perfect. I just wanted to have a nice dinner with my parents and my family where no one yelled for once.

"I'm sorry," I said, sounding disappointed, "I know you don't like family get-togethers, but-"

He held up his hands to signal for me to stop talking. "Hey, it's okay. They're your family. They were part of the deal when I married you." He looked down at the table, avoiding eye contact when he spoke up again. "I just… I'm never gonna fit in with them, cupcake."

"Trev," I rushed to comfort him, taking his rough, calloused hands in mine, "I don't want you to be like them. I mean, they're my family and I love them. But I love you because… well, because you're you." I smiled at him. He looked satisfied with my response as he paid the bill for our meal.

"Shall we go get the little ankle-biters?" He extended an arm out in front of him as he stood, gesturing for me to lead the way out. "They haven't been here to irritate us the entire night; they must be getting antsy."

"You're terrible," I laughed.

* * *

"Dad, do you want any more green bean casserole?"

My father nodded at me, taking the casserole dish from me. It had been a week since I had told Trevor that my parents would be coming for dinner tonight, and I had hoped that he would be on his best behavior. So far, things had been tense, with my parents throwing snide comments Trevor's way, and Trevor trying to hold back his sarcastic remarks.

"You know, Jane, Marjorie and Dan just moved into their new house in Chumash. It's gorgeous."

"I know, dad, I talked to her the other day," I said with frustration. This was a regular occurrence; my parents would brag about my younger sister Marjorie and her incredible accomplishments in an attempt to make me jealous.

"I just don't understand why you choose to live out here, Janie," my mother spoke up. "Everyone out here seems so…"

"So what, mom? Not rich?" I cut her off.

She cleared her throat awkwardly, looking at Coralie and Scarlett across the table. "So, Coralie, how are dance classes?"

"Awesome!" Coralie bounced around in her seat excitedly. "I'm getting so good at it!" I smiled down at my plate as I took another bite of my dinner. Coralie had started taking dance classes when she was six, and had completely fallen in love with it over the past four years.

"So, Trevor, how is the uh... whatever it is you're doing these days?" You could practically hear the disdain in my father's voice when he said Trevor's name.

"Oh, I've been mostly picking up people who've jumped bail. It's pretty simple work, but it pays well." We had decided the first time that Trevor met my parents that of all his ventures, this was the least questionable. After all, it wasn't illegal. The _ways_ in which he collected his targets weren't always legal, but my parents didn't have to know that part.

"Well enough to support my daughter and grandchildren?" My father rebutted.

"Dad," I warned. Trevor gave me a reassuring look before turning his focus to my father.

"You don't need to worry about that; we do pretty well for ourselves here."

I snickered at Trevor's response; if only my parents knew just how much money Trevor had stashed away in the bank. "Dad, we're fine on money. Seriously. Trevor takes good care of us."

My father snorted in response. "I certainly hope so."

I looked over at my mother, who was sitting quietly, not wanting to get involved.

"Sir, with all due respect," Trevor began, trying to sound as polite and dignified as possible, "I work damn hard to make sure that Janie and the girls are comfortable and well taken care of. I would never let anything bad happen to them."

"Well, I certainly hope you've gotten some help for yourself, as well." My father's voice was cold and spiteful.

"Richard!" my mother hissed at him. Both she and I knew what was coming. Coralie looked back and forth between all of us, trying to get a grasp on the situation that was unfolding. Trevor dropped his fork on his plate. It clattered loudly and made me jump. I looked over at him; his eyes had grown dark and angry-looking.

"You wanna run that by me again? I'm not sure I quite picked up what you were puttin' down," Trevor snarled.

"Well," my father spoke a bit louder this time, "You know, with your anger and all. I've seen it first-hand. I wouldn't want to see you turn that on Janie or the girls; God knows I don't want any of them getting hurt."

I swallowed hard when I saw Trevor square his shoulders, sitting up a bit straighter in his seat.

"Coralie," I said quietly, "Why don't you bring Scarlett up to her room and play with her?" I wanted the girls out of the way for this.

"Now, I'm fuckin' _sure_ I didn't just hear you accuse me of putting my hands on any of my girls… Right?"

My father shrugged nonchalantly, as if they were having a casual conversation. "This is exactly what I mean, Trevor. What happens when Jane disagrees with you someday, or one of the girls pushes their luck with you?"

Trevor stood up suddenly, gesticulating wildly as he began yelling. "Jane and I disagree all the goddamn time! I ain't gonna fuckin' hurt her because of it! And those girls are happy! I would never lay a hand on them and I'm gonna make sure they have a better father figure than Jane had!"

That was all it took for my father to mirror Trevor's body language. He jumped to his feet, coming face to face with Trevor, who seemed to tower over him. My father was not intimidated. He exploded with spiteful sounding laughter at Trevor's words.

"Something fuckin' funny to you?" Trevor shouted.

"I've never trusted you with my girl, you know that? I should've stepped in before you ever had the chance to marry her and take her away from us!" My father said, jabbing Trevor in the chest with his finger. I became enraged at my father's words as he spoke, and I found myself rising to my feet and stalking towards the two of them.

"I think you mean _my_ girl," Trevor growled.

"Shut up, Trevor," I snapped. My eyes darted rapidly between him and my father as I continued, "Can you both stop talking about me like I'm some sort of possession? Nobody took me away from you, dad! I chose to come here!"

My father ignored me completely, stepping closer to Trevor. "You've never deserved her. She could've married a doctor or a lawyer; someone with a shred of class and respect for her!" My father's voice was becoming louder as he tried to prove a point. I looked over at my mother, who looked as anxious as I felt.

"God, you're just like Michael, that fat snake," Trevor shook his head, "Always so fuckin' judgmental!"

"Mark my words," my father growled, "If you hurt any of those girls, I'll kill you."

Trevor threw his head back as he howled with laughter. "Oh, you're gonna kill me? Aw," he mocked, "I'd better watch out! He's comin' for me!" He turned to me with a sarcastic grin on his face. "Janie, you never told me your old man here was such a menace! He's really got me shakin' in my boots; really! Please, spare me!"

I was irate by that point; Trevor was openly making a mockery of the situation. He knew how much I hated when they fought, and I had tried so hard to make it a nice night for everyone. How could he be so careless about my feelings?

"You're pathetic. Really, you are," my father muttered.

Trevor's face dropped suddenly into a deadpan expression. "Get out." Trevor's voice was quiet and foreboding.

"Excuse me?" My father tested him.

"Get the hell out of my house!" I had been waiting for that to come out of Trevor's mouth the entire time. I knew it would. "Who the fuck do you think you are, coming into my house and disrespecting me in front of my wife and my kids?! Get the fuck out!"

My mother jumped to her feet, grabbing my father's arm and pulling him away from Trevor. "Richard, enough! Let's go!" She reached for her purse on the sofa as she tugged my father towards the door.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled as she hastily pushed my father out the door ahead of her. He fought back against her, trying to reenter the house. "Richard, wait in the damn car!" She slammed the door in his face, and took a deep breath as her eyes darted between Trevor and I. "I'm sorry, you guys."

Trevor sighed, trying to compose himself. "I'm not angry at _you_. You just… you know I'd never put my hands on Jane, or the girls, right?"

She nodded at him, hesitantly reaching out a hand to touch his arm. She turned her attention to me as she spoke again. "I'll see you soon, Janie. Tell the girls we said goodbye." She looked disappointed as she left, closing the door behind her. I knew this was not how she had wanted dinner to go.

Trevor and I stood in silence for a moment, before I spoke up. "What the hell was that?"

"He thought I was gonna hit you or somethin'! I couldn't just let him say that shit, cupcake!"

"You couldn't have just held your tongue until they left?" I knew I was being unfair to Trevor; I would've been just as angry had I been in his place.

He paused, opening his mouth to speak before closing it, unsure of what to say. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Really, I am. I overreacted. I'm sorry I ruined dinner. I'm sorry for everything."

"I just wanted a nice dinner with my family, Trevor. Is that too much to ask?"

He looked defeated; his shoulders slumped and he looked down at his feet. "No, it's not. I'm sorry, gorgeous. Can you forgive me?"

I took a step closer to him, staring him down for a moment before wrapping my arms around his waist. "Of course." His hands slid down my sides to rest on my waist. I let out a sigh as he planted a kiss on the top of my head. "Do you wanna put the girls to bed while I clean up the kitchen?"

He nodded obediently. "I really am sorry."

"I know, babe. It's okay," I said with a weak smile. The night had not gone the way I wished it would have, but I couldn't completely blame Trevor. My father was absolutely out of line, and Trevor was right; he was a better father figure to Coralie and Scarlett than my father was to me. He had been absent for most of my childhood. He always had his head buried in his work, and when he wasn't busy with that, he was usually in his study, alone, with a drink in his hand.

As I scrubbed the pots and pans with hot, soapy water, I smiled to myself. My father was wrong about Trevor. He wasn't a monster like my parents thought. Trevor had always been sweet to me, and as I heard him shouting and laughing loudly with the girls upstairs, I knew what kind of a man he was. This was why I had left Rockford Hills; I was in search of something _real_ ; something good. Something like this.


End file.
